To say that my dad and brothers like to hunt would be an understatement. My dad has loved hunting as long as I can remember. Mom tells a story about Glenda and I crying one Christmas because we were just sure that Daddy had killed Rudolph, and Santa wasn’t going to be able to bring us our Christmas presents.
Dad starts getting ready for hunting season in July, a good four months before season opens. Dad even built a special room in his shop exclusively reserved for cleaning deer. The room has a stainless steel countertop and sink, and an air conditioner to keep the room cold.
My brother, Gary, and Dad were cleaning a deer this morning when we got to Mom and Dad’s house. Of course, I saw this as prime opportunity to practice using my manual settings on my camera.
Good times, Mississippi-style.
That's why I never eat deer meat because Gary made me look at his dead deer and I am ruined for life
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